


No Longer Dawn

by galacticbug



Category: Banana Fish (Anime & Manga)
Genre: Character Death, Death, Deathfic, Gen, Grief/Mourning, Implied/Referenced Character Death
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-08-18
Updated: 2018-08-18
Packaged: 2019-06-29 05:37:18
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,660
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/15723066
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/galacticbug/pseuds/galacticbug
Summary: Eiji was happy recalling his experience at New York, with Aki-chan. Until Ibe-san told him the news, "Ash is gone."





	No Longer Dawn

**Author's Note:**

> A one shot story.  
> Falls after 19th volume of Banana Fish manga.  
> May contain grammatical errors, as well as misreferences.

    Eiji stared at the mirror. His eyes were sore but he felt numb. Running around his head is the same question since the first call, "Why?" 

     He remembered that day. One fine Saturday morning. Eiji just finished sorting some photographs Ibe-san took. He's playing with Aki-chan—Ibe-san's niece—at the living room.  
     "That's so cool!" Aki-chan exclaimed as Eiji tell her about New York. Of course, not everything about it. He told her about the high buildings. The many people scrolling around even during late nights. The library with books more than Eiji has ever seen. The blinding city lights. "... and I met so many friends!" Eiji said with a huge smile.  
     They left not long ago but he sure miss them already. I hope they're all happy, he thought.

     Aki and Eiji continued chatting for a couple more minutes until Ibe-san walk out of the kitchen. With a phone in hand and a weird expression of both worry and another, Eiji couldn't tell. One thing's evident—he caught it at first glimpse—something's not right.  
     Ibe-san asked Aki watch the TV as the two of them drift to the kitchen.  
     Ibe-san made it quick. He said exactly what Max told him, "Ash is gone." Eiji didn't say anything at first. He sat there, unable to think. He is, until now.  
     "It can't be real," Eiji was ready to laugh at the joke. He was just talking about his friends. About New York. About Ash. He was happy a moment ago. Maybe the sudden topple made his thinking slow. Now he knew how bowling pins feel. Being hit by a hard ball right into your whole body. Even now. He'll actually accept it if they'll tell him they're just fooling around.  
     Eiji hates rollercoasters. The ups and downs. The twists and turns. It's making him retch.  
     All Ibe-san could do was hold him in. Not a word slipped out his mouth. Perhaps it's the lost for words. Or perhaps he knew, anything that could console his assistant is out of reach. Ash is out of reach. Ibe-san is also hurting. He also have no idea on what to do. The news is a wrecking ball, and it's breaking all of them.

     They flew back to New York a day before the funeral. Max fetched them at the airport, straight to Ash's apartment.  
     Eiji received a couple faint smiles—all too little too weak. Some squeeze on the shoulder and pats on the back. Kong and Bones greeted him with a hug and a welcome back. They barely exchanged words. Alex took his luggage to the room. "Boss... I'm sorry," was all he could say.

     Eiji fell down the bed. Here it goes, the gush of tears.  
     He's got no clue on how Ibe-san convinced his parents to let him go back to New York. He was there, but he never heard a word. Or maybe he did. Only, he's drowning in his own thoughts.  
     He stretched his arms and felt the mattress. A surge of countless memories came rushing like a huge wave, eating him alive.  
     He remembered how Ash's yellow hair glitter every morning when sun rays hit it.  
     The way he stand by the huge window, his green eyes wide as he observe the building across.  
      Every meal they've shared. How Ash complain about the food he makes but never leaves a dot.  
      He remembered that day when Ash woke up late and Eiji had to drag him to the bathroom and forced him to take a shower to sober.  
      The expression from the blonde's face on Halloween when he set up some pumpkins. Who the heck gets scared of pumpkins?  
       It made Eiji laugh a little. And shatter more.  
       That night, he slept on Ash's bed. Eiji felt him again. His soft hair on the pillow. His warmth under the blanket. It smelled like him. It's as if he's there. He sees Ash whenever he close his eyes. So he kept it close for a long time.  
       A click opened the room. Eiji swerved away from the door to hide his tear stained face. The visitor waited for a whole minute before speaking.  
       "Sorry," he said. It was Sing. Eiji knew the voice. Sing made another pause. "Sorry," he said again but his voice broke. Sobbing, Sing repeated that one word again and again. Again and again until Eiji lost count.  
     Tears came rushing right after Sing left. Another set of why's added his list. He kept thinking about it until he doze off.

     "Ei-chan," Ibe-san rouse him back to life. He's by the bedroom door, holding a suit. "We should be getting ready."  
     For a second, Eiji forgot the reason he's there. His dream was so beautiful, he got lost with it.  
     A memory from when they went fishing in Cape Cod. That's one of the rarest moments. They're just normal people having fun. 

     Max and Ibe-san were with Eiji on the ride to the funeral. Black and white flooded the place. The light and the darkness. The sleazy and the sweet.  
     They found a seat right in front of the chapel. Eiji recognized many familiar faces—Cain and his mates. The ones from Chinatown. Inspector Jenkins, Steve, George, Charlie and Nadia. Ash's dad. Jessica and Michael we're behind them. Alex, Kong and Bones were on the other side, together with their gang mates. Also sitting there, were Blanca and Yut Lung. And Sing—who can't even look at him.

     "I'm going to the washroom," Eiji said quietly. Ibe-san helped him up and offered assistance, which he hastily declined.  
      He headed to the washroom tardily, rushed to a cubicle when he sensed someone approaching. Eiji stayed hidden. He knew whoever that is, is connected to Ash and he's scared.  
      "It's still there, man." A male voice said. "We went to the library yesterday and there's still bloodstains on the floor." "That's terrifying." Another male voice said. Eiji stayed still and listened as the two strangers share information about the falling of the lynx.

     Right. Right. He's got no hint on what happened. No one dared to tell him. He never would have the guts to ask anyway.  
     "Lao..." he whispered. "Sing..." he clutched his fist pressed to his chest. It all make sense now. The puzzle is solved. His heart scattered. Why's multiplied.  
        
     After that, everything's a blur. Now he's staring at the mirror, unable to feel.  
    Dark hair and red eyes. Pale skin and sulken cheeks. Whoever's on the mirror, he didn't know anymore. He haven't been eating. He haven't done anything. Maybe he should. He know he should.  
     It's a vain idea. A stupid one. But better than nothing.  
     He stood up, snatching a coat from his luggage. What a luck, he thought. Everyone's at the kitchen so he easily escaped with no one noticing.  
     The taxi driver sure was weirded by him, asking to go to the cemetery at 8:00 pm. He struggled down the taxi. His injuries aches every step, but nothing compares to the pain inside.  
     Eiji aimed for the nameless grave. He sat beside the dirt covering his casket. The one he loves is lying asleep, six feet underground, never to be waken.  
      
     The soil was cold under his palm. He stared down it until his eyes stung.  
     "Why?"  
     He let out a laugh for the silly question. He finally realize why. Or perhaps he did long ago. He just can't accept the fact. "It's me right?" he whispered.  
     "It's my fault Ash. It's all my fault. The letter. Lao. I should've gone to see you. I should've said goodbye. I should've hugged you. Imagine if I did. We could've smiled at each other. I could've told you how much I wanted you to go to Japan. I would've seen you one more time.  
     "But does any of that matter? Even if I did, I know it's still my fault. Everyone's asking why you decided to end it. Sitting there with eyes closed and lips stretched to a smile as your blood run out. As your life wither, like it's all fine. How long were you hurting? Well I know the reason now. Everything's fine and that's exactly why. The war is gone. No guns pointed on my head. No knife ready to slit my throat. Are you happy now? Cause I'm not, Ash. We're not." Eiji's voice quivered. For the first time since he heard the news, he's crying out loud. And it feels good, and not, at the same time.  
      Eiji tried clearing his throat. He breathed deep when he figured it's a hopeless case. "You're so selfish, Ash." The surge of tears came, more and more. He mean it. And he don't regret saying it. "Dying alone is so selfish. Leaving me, us is so selfish. It's not all about you. You dragged me into this. Then you'll leave hanging? That's so unfair. How about me? How about Japan? We could visit my hometown. Where you'll feel safe even without a gun. Did you hear that? There's no guns, Ash."

     Eiji cried. Shouted. Screamed until his voice vanished in thin air. He's sad and mad and in pain. He's hurting so much but he knew there's nothing he can do. Ash is gone. Ash is now at peace. He's probably with Griff now. And Shorter—oh Shorter. And Skip. He's probably waiting for Eiji.   
     He stayed sitting beside Ash's grave until dawn. Dawn, how funny.  
     He's so tired, he could pass out, but Eiji stood up to face the rising sun. "I'll be waiting too, Ash."  
     "Aslan"  
     What a beautiful name, he thought. And promised not to say it again until he finds his own dawn.  
      
     Eiji started backing away.  
     "Maybe I'm wrong, Ash," he glanced back after three steps. "Maybe you are the leopard," he raised his head and look at skies. "Because I'm certain you knew too. That you would never be going back."


End file.
